It's been beautiful here so on my way to the hospital I decided to take time to stop and smell the roses. I guess, in reality, I actually stopped to admire the colors. Gorgeous. It seems that some of the trees are fighting to hang onto their green.
So tell me what you think..are you experiencing any beautiful Fall days?
Look up...look WAY up. Don't know why I took this one (because I could?) This guy (a raven, not a crow) was really "chowing down" on the skating rink snow! I'm afraid we have some of the strangest "Fall fashion" I've ever seen...or maybe aliens are invading?
O.K., I have another huge "rant", but just don't have the time/energy right now.
Plus, I'm afraid I'll lose you all if you have to hear another minute of my bitching.
But, it must be done.
This is in Dad's ICU room. Now, the whole purpose of these containers is to eliminate the risk of exposure to discarded, contaminated items and they are designed to be CLOSED, in order to have any affect at all. I mean why not just a regular garbage can if you're going to use it like this?
NOTE: this was in here BEFORE Dad arrived, and is not just his garbage. I pulled my chair back at one point in order to make room for a nurse to get by me and almost knocked it over (that's when I discovered it). It has not been closed the entire time Dad's been in ICU - there are bloody scissors in there, discarded lines, etc. Absolutely disgusting.
Well, it' done. A long day for sure. I took Dad in at 6:40 for his 9:30 surgery and that went ahead, as planned, this time. Then the fun part (the waiting) began...
If all things went "smoothly", Dad was due back in the recovery room by 1:30 or so. But we know it doesn't happen that way, don't we?
Gone are the good old days where you waited in a room designed specifically for that until someone came to "update" you on the progress of things. I remember when Mom had surgery many moons ago for her aneurysm (which had burst) - nurses came out several times to give us updates. And then, immediately afterward, the doctor came out to give us the news.
Things aren't quite so efficient these days and noone really communicates at all.
By 1:45 I knew nothing - hadn't seen or heard anything. I'd waited for a period of time in the surgical "daycare" waiting room, the only one available. But there was a grumpy old guy bitching about how long he'd been waiting and I had to leave before I threw my shoe at him. And the lady coughing spewing muffin all over the floor helped with that decision (to leave).
I read the entire Province newspaper, the Georgia Strait, the local rags and a seniors flyer (just for good measure). I did a Canucks and a Crossword scratch and lose, drank 26 "taste like they've sat in a pot all day and burnt on the bottom" Starbucks coffees (which I hate) and then ran out of things to do. So it was then that I went and sat here..... I decided to make myself useful, as noone else was doing the job. And nobody even caught on that I didn't belong there...I gave out directions all day. There wasn't one damn question I couldn't answer. (And no, I'm not a weirdo who packs her camera to her Dad's surgery - I just happened to have it in my purse and it provided momentary relief from the anxiety and the worry).
It was while I was sitting here that things turned very sad. Now the wheels were already turning, as this spot is directly across from the elevators that took me up to Mom every day. And as I sat staring at them, the doors opened and a friend that I know from work came out with a group of others. I knew that her Mom had recently had some problems - although nothing too serious from what I was aware of. She'd been at home and, although when I'd checked with "M" on how she was doing a few days ago and she said "not good", I'd assumed that meant she'd had a little setback. But I immediately knew...the look on her face and smudged tears told me. I got up and mouthed the words "your Mom?" and she just shook her head yes as she started to bawl and came over and hugged me (hard). Her mother had just passed away. We stood there in the hallway and hugged and cried. For a very long time.
So after that, the sadness was overwhelming. Then I spotted a cousin, who is dying of pancreatic cancer and drug abuse, just to keep things rolling along.
I went in to a reception type room and asked if they could fill me in on what was happening with Dad. A nurse came out and said that Dad would be in surgery for AT LEAST a few more hours. That was it, no explanation as to why, just that it would be at least 4 or 5 before he was done. I asked if there'd been a delay and she told me there hadn't - that he got right in there at 9:30, as scheduled.
It was at that point that I decided I had to get out of there for an hour before my head exploded with worry...I had to drive Linds somewhere anyhow, so I came home for a bit.
I arrived back at the hospital at 3:15 and still no word. I went and told the reception lady that I'd go wait up by the ICU, where Dad was to be taken afterward, as I was getting stir crazy where I was at. It was then that I got the news - they couldn't find a bed in ICU for Dad and didn't know WHERE he'd moved to when he was done. I think I kind of lost it at this point because, before I knew it, I had a "team leader" and a head nurse sitting beside me, trying to assure me that things would work out. They showed me a spot in the surgical daycare recovery room that Dad would be kept in until something became available in ICU. After many questions about equipment and specialized staff, I had to accept that this was all there was. That my foot stamping just wasn't going to change things and that it had to be this way. Yea healthcare system. Screwing people over for years now (I had flashbacks of the fairly recent news story I'd seen of the guy who was actually placed in a broom closet when there was no room for him anywhere else in the hospital. That wasn't going to be my Dad).
At 3:50, the doctor came out to say things were "done" and had gone "fairly well". He then explained that, because it was a doozie (they'd done other things as well while they were "in there"), they were keeping Dad in a semi coma like state and on a ventilator. He also said I could "see" Dad for a second and that they'd come out and tell me when. This was a surprise as, the original plan was that he'd be in ICU for a day or two before we'd get to see him. Now they were letting me in?
Again, I waited another hour or so (back at my information desk). By this time, everyone in the area had "cleared out" of the waiting room, the lights were shut out and staff were locking up and leaving. It became obvious that this was not "the norm" and that Dad should've been transferred somewhere else by now, as this department was obviously just a "daytime" operation. My brother arrived after work and he, too, was concerned about the "arrrangements" being made for Dad.We just really weren't comfortable with "setttling" for anything but the critical care he was scheduled to receive.
It was nearly 5:45 and I was growing increasingly anxious - a woman suggested that I "remind" the nurses that we were waiting to see Dad, as "they probably forgot about you". Yep, they had.
After nearly 12 hours and many tears, we finally got so see Dad for a brief moment. They'd warned us that it would be "shocking" - that he had breathing tubes and all kinds of other stuff in him. But it wasn't. He looked good to me - good color and just like my "Papa". I know how to read some of the charts and it seemed like he was reasonably stable. After Mom's ordeal, preparing for "the worst" has taken on a whole new meaning. I stayed composed and just gave Dad a soft rub on the hand before we left - we didn't want to "jeopardize" his care by "visiting" too early.
I didn't sleep much last night and probably won't tonight...until he's breathing on his own and conscious, it's pins and needles. But the worst is over and I think someone was on our side, looking out for us.
I'm off to the hospital now, so won't be able to respond to comments (that I appreciate more than you could ever know).
To park in that same parking lot and fumble around looking for loonies and twoonies that I know I brought along but can't find.
To cross the street under that neon sign and enter the same doorway that leads to my emptiness. Littered with cigarette butts - some of them probably still hers.
To walk down the desserted hallways without having to even look at the different colored painted arrows on the walls because I know the way. It's all too painfully familiar and fresh in my mind.
And back into a hospital room, to wonder if a person who is my entire world will ever come back out.
It's too soon.
I'm trying to muster up the courage but I'm failing, miserably.
I'm a bit of a wreck right now and the pictures that I just found in a box of one of our last Christmases together has just hit me hard.
If they put off the surgery again, I don't know that I can keep dragging myself to this place. Friday is the day, but they've told us "not to hold our breath". Well I am. And I have been for months now, long before this surgery was ever scheduled.
Appreciate people while they're here. Spend time with them, even if it sometimes seems like "a chore" or you have other, "more important" things to do.
Because one day it all changes and, when it does, it can never be again.
I've been around fairly infrequently lately and I can only guess that that will probably be the case for awhile. Who knows though - I'm so unstable...I may have to vent, cry, or just hear your friendly voices. Yes, when I'm here, I swear I can.
You've been great friends to me. And I sincerely thank you for that.
I'm sorry, but I'm just not a big bunch of fun right now. I'm trying to be, but I'm not great at faking it.
Although I would've liked to have had the time to do this yesterday, I worked all day and then we celebrated, so I was unable to.
But this is a tribute to my son, Tyler, who celebrated his birthday yesterday (and is a wonderful son everyday).
I have been blessed in my life with two wonderful children, Ty being the eldest. He has always made me proud in that he's a man of loyalty, fairness, integrity, compassion, empathy and honesty. He is truly a "man" in his no nonsense approach to things and is strong in his convictions. He is also just a fun person to be around - his quick wit and hilarious antics keep us laughing most of the time around here. I always feel a big hole when he's away...it just doesn't feel like "home" without him.
Ty and I have been known to stand, toe to toe, and debate an issue until we're blue in the face. We're both stubborn that way and I admire that he doesn't waver or back down when he believes in something. He's often called me out when I'm being unreasonable and, yes, after awhile I often realize that he's made a valid argument and may have some answers that I don't have. That's a hard one, when your kid outsmarts you and can teach you things that you don't know or have been too bull headed to see.
Tyler's extremely intelligent and I love the fact that if I ever need a trivia answer or to confirm something from the past, he's my "go to" guy (especially if it relates to sports). He's always had a great ability to retain and recall facts and figures and can rattle them off when need be. Comes in handy - it's like having a set of encyclopedias, a dictionary and a calculator all living upstairs.
Tyler's been through a lot in his 20 years and, while some his age threw themselves into drugs, drinking and partying, he always had excuses to follow suit but never did. I've always thought that his maturity level was well beyond his years and it proved to be true. I've never experienced any of the worry that often comes with being the parent of a teenage boy...staying out late, getting into trouble, etc. "Typical" things that this boy never put me through - he just somehow was smarter than that. He's a "family" man, opting to spend time at home with us rather than doing things like bar hopping and partying on the weekends. He's been a dream child to raise and has never given me any reason to worry.
It was no surprise to me when he found himself a wonderful girlfriend who held the same values that he did. Fiona and Tyler make a great "team" and are a fine example to others their age. They are both responsible, intelligent people who add a touch of class to this age group. Don't get me wrong - they're no "angels" and you just have to hear Ty spew a string of "choice" words from his potty mouth to know that he can be a little rough around the edges at times (or sit next to him in a car with the windows rolled up after he's eaten something spicy). But, all in all, he's a wonderful person and I'm honored to be his mother and am even more thankful that I have him in my life as my friend.
My son is no longer a "teenager", he's become a man. And he's holding true to that, I am proud of the "finished product" - he's everything a mother could ask for in a son.
Happy 20th Tyler...I love you dearly and wish you all the love, luck and happiness in the world.
I'll be back later to catch up on comments, etc. - as for right now I'm watching the Canucks/Kings game. We should win this one handily but, with that being said, I'm not counting my chickens. We are up 1-0 however, on a goal from Lindsay's favorite - Matt Cooke ("Cookie").
When I do return later, I'll fill you in some more on the wild day here.
For now, it's been breaking news all day:
A plane crashed into a building 5 minutes away from here -I didn't know the details right away and was terrified (was at work when customers started coming in with the "did you hear about the plane?" stories). The Richmond hospital is on "Code Orange" right now, meaning that none of the workers are allowed to leave, as they wait for ambulances. (And we all know how efficient they are there.) Hopefully everyone is o.k. - no news yet. but witnesses have said that they saw people waving frantically from the building. Awful.
There's a huge gas leak in Surrey (where Ty & Fiona are) and entire blocks have been shut down near the King George Sky train station. Every available emergency vehicle is there at the moment - dozens of firetrucks and ambulances lined up and down the streets.
And, we're having a huge thunder storm here - it's brutal. The rain is coming down harder than ever and if the power goes out and messes with my hockey game, then you'll hear some real thunder.
First of all, I'd like to know what happened to my Canucks and which team's gonna show up this week? Cheering for them is a roller coaster ride and I'd like to be let off now please.
I refuse to "slam" them and have never understood those who "boo" their team when they don't perform well. Why exert the energy?...just leave. Or shut the game off. It angers me when I'm at a game and that happens and, if it happens to be you and you're sitting near me, it's quite likely I'll throw something at you (not really - Ty stops me). I take my hockey seriously and support my team faithfully, but lately I just don't know which team that'll be - the Jeckylls or the Hydes. (And recently during some games, I've secretly booed inside. There, I said it.). I'm a realist and, reality is - we kinda suck right now.
We have 8-2 blowouts, where the opposition scores when they're two men short, just to prove their point. What five guys did we have out there - Larry, Curly, Moe, Abbott & Costello? Yet, in other games, our PP's on fire. Figure that one out.
We had one of (if not) THE best penalty kills in the game - that's now going down the toilet.
Our "leaders" step up and show flashes of brilliance, and then they go outside and smoke crack or something and pack it in halfway through a game.
Luongo's solid and one thing we can usually count on - it's rare that he has a bad game (although that 8-2 thrashing wasn't his best). The guy's faced more shots than the Iraqi citizens (165 so far). We've already given up 21 goals this season, and they're not all Luongo's fault. Actually, most of them aren't.
Our defence has more breakdowns than my car and we turnover the puck in our own zone on a regular basis.
In the faceoff circle, I think we do rock, paper, scissors instead of going for the puck. Either that or, at some point in the circle, our players shake hands with the opponet and say, "it's o.k., you can have it". We're nice & polite like that. Our mothers taught us it's better to give than receive.
Seriously, I love my team and will never "jump off" the bandwagon. And it's too early to tell what any team will do at this point (well, except maybe Atlanta, who just fired their coach). But I can't take this pressure... how is it that I'm at the laundromat, watching the game and my team is in a 1-1 tie, battling hard and playing good. I load the clean clothes into the car, drive the 6 minute drive to my house and flick on the tube to see that, presto, it's 4-1 and my team looks like we should be wheeling walkers out to them. What the hell happened there?
I read that Vigneault is using a chair in practice....I say "Good, hit them over the head with it and tell them to smarten the fuck up". That's how I'd use a chair in practice.
Anyhow, enough of my hockey woes. We're still doing fine, I just wish we were a little more consistent and didn't blow leads or check out of games early that we really could win. Aren't there energy drinks that could help with that? Order us a couple of cases.
* * * * *
In other news, Dad's surgery that was scheduled for today was cancelled yesterday and that has me anxious. He was scheduled for 8:00 and they called late in the afternoon to say that they don't have a bed in ICU for him.
How does this happen (my new catch phrase...I think I'll write a book with that title)? But really, how is it that a man who's spent his entire life in a community and contributed to making it a better place can't get a hospital bed when he needs one? When our newspapers recently reported that some are "coming to this country because it gives them an opportunity for better healthcare & education" (a direct quote), shouldn't we be putting out a bulletin to correct this?.....something like - "NO, WE LIED. THAT'S BULLSHIT". Because I'm afraid we're false advertising. Honestly, why should we keep accepting people with health problems when we can't accomodate them? How is it justified that we keep letting people flood in, yet we have to close the doors to someone who needs a hospital bed? Time to put up the "WE'RE FULL" signs until we fix this problem. Or at least let people know that the healthcare system is maxed out and perhaps they should rethink coming here for that.
This is all too common and reflects just how badly our system is lacking and needs work. I am infuriated by it because, if you drive just up the road from the hospital, you'll see this beauty. Seriously, the hospital's just out of the picture to the upper right and is probably half the size of this monster....our fantastic fucking new skating rink. We already have 6, in two arenas. It's a top notch facility (only the best of the best for Richmond), that will include state of the art engineering and world class art. We've consulted international artists to get the "meditative garden" just right. Spare no expense, that shit's important (when we die in the streets, at least we'll surrounded by beautiful buildings, because that's also important).
I say we stick a couple of ICU beds in a corner of this sucker. Makes sense, no? With 3 trillion new residents flocking here each year and condos and highrises sprouting up everywhere, how can we expect to accommodate all these people? We can't do it now so I say we shift the focus from the "growth" and concentrate on the "fixing up" of our city. Seriously, why keep developing and enticing people to come here when we're already over capacity and our resources are bursting at the seams and incapable of keeping up?
Am I bitter?....damn right. There's something very wrong with this picture and I think that, along with promoting this city and encouraging people to come here by throwing up residential units all over the place and plastering 2010 everywhere, we need to ensure that we have the resources in place to handle this. And the hospitals, police forces and fire halls should be the first in line for additional funding and upgrades.
When we don't have adequate funding in place and we're short staffed and lacking in beds and equipment, then that's probably the time to reassess what's happening and evaluate whether or not we should keep "growing". We have to keep up with the steady rise in population and make sure that our hospitals have room for everyone who needs a bed. (Duh - rocket science)
But, by 2010, I imagine they'll wheel in some gold rimmed, heat massage beds to "show the world" how good we are. They'll be reserved for VIP's (of course), but we'll spare no expense because we are the champions (barf). Don't get me wrong, I'm excited about the Olympics. I just think there had to be a better way and that Richmond was in no position to "fight" for the oval and steal it away from Burnaby. That we had other projects that needed doing before we planned a big party here.
Does anyone remember "Stuart"? I suspect our leaders and the people in place to ensure things run smoothly here are directly related to him. Replace "I wanna puppy" with "I want an Oval". And I'm quite sure that I've seen one or two of them go "look what I can do" on the newshour.
Anyhow, I booked today off, as I fully expected to be sitting in the hospital, waiting for the good news that Dad would be o.k. Now it's just more pins and needles as we anxiously await his surgery. This is gnawing at my gut and, considering what we've just gone through with Mom and that it's all so fresh and raw, we really didn't need this right now. The sooner we put this one behind us, the better.
* * * * *
Last rant....if we're having a thousand earthquakes a minute and we're unsure of why and it could be an underwater volcano or it could be catastrophic as the plates under BC are busting apart and the world's about to explode, please - DON'T TELL ME UNTIL YOU KNOW FOR SURE WHAT IS HAPPENING. Actually, don't tell me at all - I'll know it WHEN/IF it happens. I don't want to know that scientists are heading there "tomorrow" to investigate - this leaves me hanging. If this is the case then tell me tomorrow, AFTER they've left, so they can give me the results of their tests and tell me whether I need to get the hell out of here or not. I hate it when the stories like this come out - it reminds me of Chicken Little and I end up believing that the sky is falling. But then it turns out to be nothing more than a couple of cows farting in a field and we've got all worked up over nothing. Geesh, I don't need the stress.
A long post, well, because I'm a motor mouth. And my visits are fewer and father between than usual lately. So, by the time you finish reading this (in a couple of days), I should be back with another post.
Take care my friends.
(Junky, crack open that bottle of whiskey, I'll be right over.)
Text With No Images Makes Me Sad (Blogger has slept in today and therefore is not allowing pictures to beautify the posts)
Wow, where does the time go?
Has it really been 4 days since my last post? Guess it has and the only explanation to offer is that I'm on the "fly". Fiona's been here and when we're all here, I just find I'm "busier". Doing what, I don't quite know.
My sports talk for the day - both of my teams had most excellent weekends...the Lions and the Canucks beat Edmonton teams for a 3-0 sweep. Yea. Ty & Fiona went to the game Saturday to help with the win. Assists to both of you for that.
Anyhow, I got a very unexpected day off work today, as the young rugby player needed my shift ($$) and I'm happy to support her, even if it means we're poorer than usual. It's only for a limited time that she needs the extra cash, so I'm getting caught up on some business that needs taking care of (yes - that does mean I'll FINALLY be mailing chocolate bars & cd's!).
Don't expect to receive them though - I'm currently in a battle with Canada Post, as 3 pieces of mail that were sent to me never arrived here. Of course, the bills and junk mail always make it - it's the gift cards, rebates and refunds that have gone astray. I'm quite worried and am demanding that an investigation be conducted, as this is now a recurring thing (I used to get some pieces completely ripped open, now I don't get it at all).
Enough about me and my woes though.
Today Conrad Black is doing a book signing in Toronto, but it's more than just the signing that's got my attention - it's THE WAY inwhich he's doing it, thanks to Canadian author, Margaret Atwood .
We now interrupt this extremely boring blog for a very important message....
TODAY IS BARB'S BIRTHDAY!!!!
So everyone, send her some cake in the mail. Make wishes for her as you break that turkey's drumstick. Hug a zombie in her honor.
In all seriousness, I feel blessed to be surrounded by the wonderful friends that I have here in the blogworld, Barb being a big part of that. I keep to myself in the "real" world although, for me, this IS my real world. And I love you all (but Barb just a little bit more today).
Everyone should know someone like Barbara B...she's a "keeper". For those who haven't had the pleasure of meeting this little gem of a woman please, get over and say hello. You'll be better off for knowing her.
All the best to you Barb. I hope Radiohead's playing loud and the sun's shining (not too hard - just lukewarm) and birds land on your toes with daisies while zombies prance around you, serving you fine wine and oatmeal cookies as your football and hockey team win. O.K., well maybe not that last part.
You, my friend, are a special gift to us all. So go on now, git. Go have yourself a great day.
Now here's an ambitious little guy. Seems that he got hungry and noone was paying attention so he took matters into his own hands. Holy cow, I don't think I did much more than ride my Big Wheel around at that age (I pretended it was MY car). This little bugger was even determined enough to get his car seat into place before hitting the road. My thinking is that Applebee's should give him free food for life...somehow there's some good advertising in this. Wow.
In other news....MY CANUCKS PLAY TONIGHT!! It's a PPV game, which is quickly becoming one of the only ways to view a game. I'm pretty sure we pay about $800/game now. Seriously though, when we first started ordering the package in 2001 (we've had it every year since it started), it was $59.95. This year it's $159.95 (+ tax)....which is about a 72% increase over 6 years. I think they should be paying us to be loyal fans for all these years.
Well, gotta run. I have a day off today, as the boss's daughter needs extra cash right now and wanted extra shifts! She's trying out for the Canadian rugby team, so I'm supporting her in that by taking time off and being poor. Off to the laundromat for me (oh joy!).
Well Thursday was one of them for me. My day off (of course- those are always the days that the shit hits the fan, aren't they?). Nothing serious - just a day that I would've been better off staying in bed.
I usually get myself ready for the day and then drive Linds to school - it's across town and the bus connections are crap, as they're constructing the RAV line and it's treacherous trying to get from one end of 3 Road to the other.
Seeing that Thursday was my day off, I was being lazy and thought I'd just run her over to the school in my PJ's, as I'd planned on coming right back. Luckily my pj's kind of look like lounge/workout wear. Luckily.
I'd no sooner dropped Linds at her school and started for home when the damn car sputtered to a stop. I got it over to the side of the road and thought "o.k., here we go again". I've had ongoing issues with my car, that's cost me a fortune to date in repairs (it is a Volvo afterall).
I have a cell that I don't carry. I use it so rarely that they've disconnected me ("inactive") and I've had to reactivate it. I hate phones, that's why. That being said, I should carry one (it).
I walked to the nearest strip mall to look for a pay phone - none. There was a 7-11 however, so I went in to use the phone and call BCAA. When I entered the store and asked for the phone, the clerk replied, "no, I can't let you use it". I explained that I'd only be a minute and needed to get my car towed (I wasn't even sure I was allowed to be parked where I was) and, after some arm twisting, he reluctantly agreed to let me use it...."BUT JUST FOR A MINUTE BECAUSE IT'S CONNECTED TO THE COMPUTER!!!". I quickly dialed Dad first, as I thought we could try a few things to get it going. When he didn't answer, I dialed BCAA. By this time, the Nazi store clerk had left his post behind the counter to go to the back room. I was put on hold at BCAA while they retrieved my information.
A few seconds later, the clerk reemerged to see me still on the phone. He gestured at me and said "You, get off now". I ignored him at first and pretended I didn't hear him. Then he continued, "30 seconds is the policy and you've been too long...NOW GET OFF THERE". I covered the phone and said "excuse me sir, I've got BCAA on the line and am almost done". There'd been no customers in the store and I was out of the way and not bothering anyone. And, when someone did come in to make a purchase, they used their debit card without any problem - which proved that I wasn't interfering with "business". I doubt that the phone was tied in to the computer line. Seriously.
The clerk continued his rant at me and approached me from the other side of the counter, at which point he slid the phone away from me and unplugged the cord, disconnecting my call!!! Oh, it's on now.
I said "what did you do that for, my call was nearly finished". He replied, "I don't care, you have to go now".
"EXCUSE ME??? I HAVE TO GO NOW?!!".
I was livid and, in all honesty, kind of lost it. I made a few very derogatory remarks and stormed out of the store (leaving my brand new coffee sitting on the counter).
Now what??
In the meantime, my Dad had been outside gardening and had heard the phone when I'd tried his place. He pushed "STAR 69" to connect to the last number dialed, where he reached the same clerk, who simply told him "wrong number". My dad then persisted, saying "someone from there called my number and I'd like to know who". Again, Mr. Personality said, "wrong number - this is 7-11". Finally, my Dad (also losing patience by this time) said "look, SOMEONE from that store dialed my number...have you had anyone use the phone in the past couple of minutes". It was at that point that Mr. Numbnuts finally clued in and said I had, in fact, been in there trying to call him.
I walked down the street and noticed a little church not far from my car. I was cold and near tears, as this douchebag had made my blood boil. I entered the church to see two ladies and I told them what had happened and asked to use a phone. One of them looked at me and in a serious voice said, "oh no, I'm afraid I can't do that". ?????? She then continued, "with that hat on". I quickly went to take my baseball cap off, as I thought maybe it was against church policy. I don't know, I don't do church.
She then interrupted with, "you see, it's a BC Lion's hat and my son plays for the Stampeders". Love that woman. We chuckled and talked CFL for a minute before she directed me to the phone (and offered me a hot coffee). She also announced that she'd be venturing up the street to "give that store clerk a piece of my mind for being so rude...we don't need that in our community". My hero - YGG.
Dad arrived shortly afterward and we got the car going.
And then I realized I'd lost my keys (the hook that they were on had broken).
* * * * *
PART II
Later in the day, I borrowed Dad's van to take a bunch of stuff to the thrift store. I'd put it out the day before for a charity pick up (in the blustery, rain), but the driver never showed to pick it up! So I'd hauled it back into the carport and decided I'd donate it to Mom's favorite thrift store and, after loading it all in the van, I headed down there.
Only it was 2:50 and they stopped taking donations at 2:45! Aarghhhheyowwwwwwwrrrrrrrf.
I wasn't going down without a fight. I'd had enough on this particularly shitty day and I was NOT going to take this crap back to my house. We'd been through a garage sale, a blustery pile up for a no show pick up and an hour's worth of jamming it into every crevice in Dad's van....and now it was time for us to part ways. This shit was going.
I sat in the van, waiting for the volunteers at the shop to leave so I could pile it at the back door (people do it on a nightly basis). I'd brought along plastic to cover it with and would sit and bide my time until the coast was clear.
It was then that an old music box at the bottom of one of the 800 bags of stuff started playing....in a very dead- battery, slow, annoying way. When I tried to lean over and shake a bag, the horn honked, alerting the staff to me sitting in my van full of stuff. I pretended I was reading a newspaper, waiting for someone. I smiled and waved (and, under my breath, thought "hurry the fuck up").
The drone of the dying music box just would not stop...it was torture - over and over and OVER AGAIN. My blood pressure was already through the roof (after dealing with Mr. 7-11 douchebag of the month) and I honestly thought to myself "this is probably how people go crazy...sitting in a van full of junk, trying hard to drown out the screech of a dying music box". After10 minutes of agony, I was finally forced out of the van by the monotonous, screechy sound (before I pulled all my hair [and my eyelashes] out). I went into a shop and looked around until the time had come to unload my stuff.
(While I did, two others also pulled up and unloaded crap, so I didn't feel so guilty.)
Anyhow, I arrived home about 5 hours behind schedule. The day was a write off and my bike ride that I'd been looking forward to all week just didn't happen.
See, nothing life altering here - just a day from hell. Get me back to work, where I can enjoy some level of sanity, QUICK! These days off are too painful.